


Of Potions and Pretty Eyes

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-30
Updated: 2006-04-30
Packaged: 2019-01-19 15:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12412896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: When Lily takes a potion with drastic side-effects, she finds herself acting strangely around James Potter.  More than this, she comes to notice things about him that she's never seen before. // One-shot.





	Of Potions and Pretty Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

**Of Potions and Pretty Eyes**

 

**By SapphireSilhouette**

 

 

“Now, tilt your head back. There we go,” the nurse said as she poured a vile potion into my mouth. I gagged as the thick liquid slowly made its way down my throat. It tasted vaguely like burnt rubber. When the nurse turned her back for a moment, I made a face. 

My friend - Marlene McKinnon - giggled as she gathered her books into her bag and stood up. “Well, Lily, Arithmancy is in five minutes, and I don’t want to be late.” She gave me a quick peck on the forehead and another roguish snicker before she walked away. I glared at her. Traitor! Leaving me behind like this. It just wasn’t fair!

As I turned my attention back to the nurse, I noticed that she was laying out some nightclothes for me to change into. She glanced in my direction. “Do you need help with these, dear?”

I suppressed a shudder at the thought of someone helping me dress. I was not an invalid! I had only taken a bludger to the stomach - nothing too serious. I’d be out of the Hospital Wing in no time! As if to prove my point, I shifted my position in the bed and tried to stand. An excruciating pain traveled through my abdomen, and I grabbed my stomach in an effort to suppress it. _Why_ had I been so stupid as to interrupt the Gryffindor Quidditch practice? Dumbledore had told me to fetch James Potter, and I had thought nothing of it as I walked briskly onto the Quidditch pitch to retrieve him. Unfortunately, no one noticed me until it was too late. A bludger was sent in my direction, and _bam_! All five feet and two inches of me were thrown to the ground (all in one piece, though). What happened afterwards is a little hazy. All I know is that in my moment of weakness, _Potter_ thought it was his duty to pick me up and carry me here. _Hmph_. I could do just fine by myself, thank you very much.

The nurse grumbled to herself as she helped me up (I had fallen to the floor at this point), but when she tried to help me out of my clothes, I kept her at bay by waving my arms in front of her. I didn’t even think to tell her I didn’t need help - I just gave into the impulse of the moment and pushed her away. She backed away, indignant at my impertinence. “Well, then!” she huffed, throwing my nightclothes at me. Then she left.

I looked at the clothes. I looked down at my bruised body. “Bugger,” I muttered. Opting to sleep in my normal clothes, I stuffed the nightclothes under my pillow. The nurse returned, still muttering curses at me under her breath.

She handed me a _second_ potion, but thankfully this one actually tasted good. Like lemons. Or limes. I couldn’t decide which. Either way, it was delicious. Pomfrey looked at me distrustfully, as if I were going to throw another tantrum at any moment. Then she told me, “Just as a warning, Miss Evans, this potion will heighten your emotions, making you more susceptible to them - more willing to give into them. It’s best to sleep through it, instead of doing something you’d truly regret.” She gave me a firm look. I fought the urge to mock her expression. Good Merlin, since when did I act so childish? First waving my arms to keep her away and now this?

I nodded meekly, momentarily contrite for my previous behavior. I lay back against my pillow (which was now far too elevated for my head, seeing as the nightclothes were underneath it), ignored the pain, and closed my eyes.

Silence.

What a beautiful thing - silence. I was left with it when the sound of Pomfrey’s retreating steps disappeared. In the dull quiet of mid-afternoon, I could almost hear the beating of my own heart. _Thump, thump, thump…_ My eyelids closed as I lost myself in the rhythm of it. _Thump, thump, thump…_

_BANG!_ I shot up at the intrusion of my solitude but groaned in pain as my injured abdomen was strained in the effort. _Why_ wasn’t Pomfrey here to punish the offender? I wanted to yell for her - I was quite distraught! I had almost fallen asleep, and then some _hooligan_ woke me up. I glared in the direction of the entrance, but I could see nothing, as a curtain had been placed around my bed. However, I did not have to wait long to find out who had made that awful noise.

“Merlin, Wormtail. Can’t you look where you’re going for _once_ in your life?” a harsh voice hissed. I recognized the speaker to be Sirius Black - a haughty, though amusing, boy with little regard for others (although, I will admit, on occasion he has been kind to me).

A muffled voice whispered, “Sorry.”

I could practically _feel_ Black rolling his eyes. It was his usual response to everything Peter (Wormtail) did. I felt almost sorry for that boy - Peter, that is; not Black. Black didn’t deserve sympathy. Peter, on the other hand, was constantly being put down by his friends, his acquaintances, his enemies, his professors… The list could go on.

“Let’s just find the potion and get out of here,” another voice whispered sharply. I felt a cold shiver travel down my spine. _Potter_. I glowered in his general direction. There was a pause. “Actually, you guys go ahead. I’m going to check on Lily.”

My eyes widened. ‘ _Lily_?’ James Potter does not call me Lily! Who is this imposter?! I quickly fell back against the bed and closed my eyes. _He mustn’t see me! Who knows what this_ fake _James Potter will do to me!_ I squeezed my eyes tightly. But what happened to the noise? He had stopped moving. Where was he? I opened one eye.

I gave out a quick, sharp “ _eep!_ ” sound and jumped upright (causing myself great pain in the process). He was right there! I was not expecting him to be right in front of my face. He looked amused.

“All right there, Evans?” he asked, cocking a brow.

I narrowed my eyes at him, giving him the hardest look I could muster. “Just fine, thanks, _Potter_ ,” I replied, spitting his name out like it was venomous.

He took a step back. “Whoa, now, Evans. Calm down. I’m just here to see if you’re doing better.” He gave me a caring look.

Something in me melted. _Well now_ , that part of me said. _Here’s a nice fellow. He needs a hug_. I’ll have you know the rational Lily Evans would have no such thing! But I could feel my face softening a bit. He wasn’t all that bad, really, when you think about it.

He continued, not noticing the internal battle going on inside me. “I nearly slugged McGuire for clubbing that bludger in your direction,” he told me, as a dark look passed over his face momentarily. He would do that - for me? My shoulders slumped; my face softened even more. He still did not notice. “When I saw it hit you, I -”

But I didn’t get to hear the rest of this sentence. Why? Because the potion had finally gotten to me. I let out a quiet, choked sob, and Potter’s face turned instantly toward mine. Concern (and shock) was etched in his features, which made me even more emotional. It was so sweet of him to be so caring! Not even Marlene had cared this much when she heard that I was hurt.

He approached me slowly, as if I might pounce and attack at any moment. “Evans?” he asked gently, his warm hazel eyes looking straight into my own eyes. _Pretty_. Who knew that James Potter had such pretty eyes? They were a mix of gentle, gorgeous colors, all swirled into two small irises. Even through my tears, I could see the beauty of his simple face. Strong bones, dark, arched eyebrows over calm, pretty eyes, large nose - but not too large like Snape’s - just the right size. It all suited Potter well. Why hadn’t I noticed this before? _The potion_. Yes, it was the potion that was doing this to me. But I couldn’t bring myself to care. All I knew was that ten minutes ago I would have said that Potter was a tall, gawky boy with boring, brown eyes. And now? Now I would say that he has pretty eyes.

With tears still falling down my face, I stared at him quizzically. The poor boy looked almost uncomfortable - as if he didn’t know what to do with me. He took another tentative step toward me. “Evans, are you okay?”

I wiped my eyes and curled myself up into a fetal position. “No,” I told him, tearfully.

He glanced around the room nervously. “You know I’m sympathetic and all, Evans, but if this is some trick…”

I started crying again. He thought I was playing around with him. If only! No, this horrible potion was making me do this. Potions with side effects such as this should not be given out to innocent students! Didn’t Pomfrey know the hazards of such things? Didn’t she know that I’d make a fool of myself in front of boys with pretty eyes if I took that potion? She probably did. Evil slag. I silently cursed her.

I felt a rather large, warm hand place itself on my shoulder. I glanced upwards. James. After giving him a tearful smile, I took his hand in mine and closed my eyes, feeling very sleepy. After a few quiet moments, with his hand still in mine, I fell asleep.

\-----

Waking up was a rather odd experience for me. I was not accustomed to waking up with my hand entwined with someone else’s. Confused, I glanced toward the offender. Potter? I wrinkled my brow in an attempt at remembrance. Then it all hit me. The potion! I could have died from shame right then. I was Lily Evans - a girl who was always so in control of her emotions (except for random bursts of anger)! I _never_ cry in front of people - especially James Potter.

I took a good, long look at the boy. He was lying, sprawled, on a chair next to my bed. His chest rose and fell as he slept peacefully. His hand was still holding mine. I gave a weak smile. His glasses had drooped down the length of his nose and were now in danger of falling off. He looked so innocent, so angelic, so… strangely attractive.

I remembered the kindness with which he acted toward me hours ago. Never before had I noticed how sweet a boy James Potter was. In fact, I could not remember a time when he had treated me with anything less than full respect and kind regard.

I sighed. It had taken one ridiculous potion to make me realize how perfect James Potter was for me. As much as I hated to admit it - he was exactly what I wanted - exactly what I needed.

When I shifted my position slightly, he woke up. My eyes widened; I was not prepared for this! I had just had a revelation - I still wasn’t sure what to do with it. My hand was dropped as he retracted his own, opting to stretch his arms out instead. I scowled; I had rather liked the feel of my hand in his.

As he regained full consciousness of the situation, he glanced toward me. Once again, he looked uncomfortable. He ruffled his hair. I fought the urge to smile endearingly. Even though the potion had long since worn off, all his little habits still seemed adorable. _Ugh_. Stupid female hormones. He readjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “Evans -” he started.

“Lily,” I told him, not thinking.

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

I coughed, then muttered, “Call me Lily.”

He looked confused. Then realization seemed to dawn on him. “Look, Evans, I don’t know what Pomfrey gave you, but it’s making you act a little strange. When you return to normal, you’re not going to be happy. Maybe I should leave.” He turned to go.

I shot up. This time it wasn’t painful. So the potion _wasn’t_ good for nothing. I jumped out of the bed and grabbed his hand. Inwardly, I smiled. I decided that I liked his hands - they were big and warm. He looked shocked at the gesture. “Wait,” I told him. “The potion has worn off.”

He seemed to be calculating things in his head. Soon he would realize that I’d told him to call me Lily when I was clear-minded. “Then… you really do want me to call you Lily?” He was stunned at the novelty.

I gave him a small smile. His pretty eyes met mine. What happened to my heart beat? I couldn’t feel it any more. Was this some sort of heart disorder? Was I going to die? It certainly felt like that. I looked down; I couldn’t deal with it any more. I nodded meekly in response to his original question.

I felt him move closer. When I looked back up, I saw those eyes again, and I noticed the flecks of gold and green mixed in with the brown. All those colors - all that warmth. It was just too much for me to handle. A girl can only take so much!

He was so close. Even though he was so much taller than I, our faces were somehow only inches apart - or so it seemed. “All right… Lily,” he breathed. Brown, and green, and gold, all swirled together. My name, on those lips, never sounded so good. I felt a shiver go down my spine. I just couldn’t take it any more. He was so close, getting closer. I closed my eyes just before I felt his lips touch mine.

This certainly had to be fatal. My heartbeat seemed to be lost forever. All I could do was move closer and hope I’d find it in James. As my arms wrapped around his neck, I wondered why we hadn’t done this before. The kiss was soft but deep. I clutched him as if I would fall without his support. His lips were warm and soft; with my chest against his, I could almost feel his heartbeat. With one final brush of his lips against mine, he pulled away. When I opened my eyes, I could see the same dreamy look in his as I could feel in mine. This was perfection.

Neither of us spoke for a moment. We just stared at each other as if we were strangers. _I_ certainly saw him in a whole new light.

I was the first to speak. “Thank Merlin for potions.”

\----

**Author’s Note:** Not exactly what I wanted, but oh well. I’m pretty sure the tenses are all messed up in there, too.

This was written for all those who have suffered the nasty emotional side effects of medicines. I certainly had my share of them this week, although my own story doesn’t involve a boy with pretty eyes. My life isn’t interesting enough for that to happen to me. 


End file.
